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When the world was inundated by a terrible flood and the waves of the ocean rose and the water flowed everywhere and people had no place to go, the gods in the sky went to the lord and said, “There is no refuge for us,” and Thirumāl took the form of a fish, carried all the mountains on his back and saved all. Worship him, O my heart, do not forget him.

As a turtle he supported Mandara mountain on his back and using it as a churning stick and the snake Vasuki as a rope he churned the milky ocean while all the gods in the sky helped him. That Thirumāl is our refuge.

He is the ancient god who, at the end of the eon, became a boar and saved everything from the flood— the worlds of the gods and all the seven worlds where the faultless moon and the sun shine, and all mountains and rivers of the earth, and the seven oceans. Containing all the worlds and the oceans in the vessel that he carried on his foot, he protected us. He is our ruler.

As a man-lion he went to Hiraṇyan and with heroic fiery eyes and his garland hanging down by his arms, he angrily split open the Rākshasa’s chest with his sharp claws. His heroism is greater than the large oceans that surround all the three worlds.

He took the form of a dwarf-sage and went to the heroic king Mahābali’s sacrifice, reciting the Vedas as one who knows the truth. When he asked for three feet of land from the king, the king granted his wish, and he grew tall and measured the sky with one foot and the earth with the other. Let the feet of that king who measured the seven worlds and the sky rule us.

As heroic Parasuraman, he fought with his axe and defeated the twice eight and four kings of the world. The lord who swallowed all the seven worlds and spat them out is the beloved the earth goddess, of Lakshmi and of Nappinnai. He rules us happily.

As Rama in the forest, he chased the Rākshasa Marisan who came as a golden deer to delight Sita whose sharp eyes were like spears, and he killed it. When Sita was kidnapped by Rāvaṇa he went to Lanka, killed the Rākshasas, shattered Lanka into pieces, and, shooting his powerful arrows with his bow, defeated Rāvaṇa. He, our Thirumāl, is our refuge.

The world grew dark at the end of the eon in ancient times. The divine Vedas disappeared and the gods were shocked and did not know where their worlds had gone. He took the form of a swan, removed the darkness of the world and taught the Vedas to the sages and removed the ignorance of the world. The lord always gives his grace to the gods and all others.

O devotees, do not think there are other ways you can be helped and that you do not need him. Worship the lord who drank the milk from the breasts of Putana and killed her. When he stole butter from the cowherd women and ate it, round-breasted Yashoda tied him to a mortar, but he pulled the mortar after him and walked between two marudu trees and knocked them down, killing the two Rākshasas who had taken their form. He is our refuge and he takes away the results of our bad karma.

He killed the murderous, angry-faced elephant and he destroyed Lanka ruled by the cruel Rākshasa king, shooting mighty arrows from his bow. Kaliyan, the king of Thirumangai surrounded with fields and streets with rich palaces composed ten pāsurams on the god. If devotees sing these musical poems and worship him, they will go to the world of the gods and rule there.